Dance Lessons
by dustnik
Summary: Set in 1924–1925. It's Andy's first servants' ball, and he doesn't know how to dance, but happily Thomas does.
1. Chapter 1

After working as a footman for the Crawley family in London, Andy Parker was disappointed to be returning to his job as a hallboy. He had hoped to be kept on but thought his escapades with Miss Denker had cost him his chance. Therefore, it came as a welcome surprise when he received a letter from Mr. Carson offering him a place at Downton Abbey. Somehow he knew he owed this bit of good fortune to Thomas Barrow. The two had gotten on well during their week together, and Andy thought of him often. Upon arriving at the Abbey, he was quick to seek out the other man and thought he seemed happy to see him again too.

The first few weeks were a struggle for the footman. He was determined to do well in his new post, but things had never come easily for him. Luckily, Mr. Barrow was always there to steer him in the right direction and keep him out of harm's way. Andy was very grateful for all his help. He was surprised therefore to discover that the rest of the staff didn't share his good opinion of the underbutler. He noted the barely concealed contempt downstairs and the snide comments made behind Thomas' back. It made him angry, but he kept his feelings to himself.

One day at luncheon, Andy overheard a couple of the maids eagerly discussing something called the Servants' Ball. He wondered what it was but didn't wish to interrupt them. Later, he spotted Thomas smoking outside in the courtyard despite the frigid temperature and set out to ask him.

Barrow turned to see Andy approaching and smiled. He had grown very fond of the lad and welcomed his company. "You're going to freeze out here."

"What about you?" Andy countered.

Thomas shrugged indifferently.

Andy nodded toward the cigarette in his hand. "Can I have one?"

Thomas looked uncertain. "Have you ever smoked before?"

"No, but I thought I might like to take it up." Andy knew the older man still saw him as a boy, and he hoped smoking would make him appear more mature and sophisticated.

Thomas obliged, watching as Andy placed the cigarette between his lips. He lit it for him as the footman took a long pull into his lungs. Andy immediately started choking. "You don't need to inhale quite so deep," Thomas advised him when the spell subsided.

Andy nodded in embarrassment. He tried again and managed not to cough this time although the smoke burned inside his chest. "I wanted to ask you about the Servants' Ball. I heard the maids talking about it earlier."

Thomas explained. "Every year, His Lordship throws a dance for everyone in the great hall. There's lots of food and punch, and everyone has a good time."

"A dance for us?" Andy looked troubled.

"It's for the family too."

"What do you mean?" Andy took another long pull from the cigarette. He didn't like it much but supposed he would get used to it.

"We dance with the family members. Mr. Carson opens the ball with Her Ladyship while Lord Grantham partners Mrs. Hughes. Then everyone else joins in too."

"Who do you dance with?" The footman was beginning to feel a bit light-headed and queasy.

"I always dance the first one with old Lady Grantham."

"The Dowager?" Andy was in awe; the aged Countess intimidated him.

Thomas nodded. Although he'd never admit it, he greatly admired the elderly woman. He thought her a very sharp and tough old bird.

Andy felt his stomach lurch. With a sense of horror, he realized he was going to be sick. Thomas was staring at him. "Are you alright, Andy? You've gone a bit green."

In answer, the footman promptly turned away and vomited his lunch. He was immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry, Mr. Barrow. Did I get any on your shoes?"

"It's fine, but perhaps you weren't cut out to be a smoker."

"I didn't really like it anyway."

That evening after all the servants had gone upstairs, Thomas heard a knock on his door, and Andy stuck his head in. "Can I please speak with you, Mr. Barrow."

Thomas put down the novel he was reading and waved him inside. "Better leave the door open."

Andy seemed puzzled by that but obeyed. He looked about the room but saw no personal items except a framed photograph beside the bed. Whatever else there might have been, Thomas kept carefully hidden away. "I was thinking about the ball. You said that the family dances with the servants. Did you mean just the senior members of staff?" the footman asked hopefully.

"No, I meant everyone."

"So that would include me."

"You and Molesley will partner the Crawley sisters for the first number."

"Lady Mary?" Andy looked aghast.

Thomas smiled, remembering his first ball at Downton and his waltz with the elegant aristocrat that had left him feeling foolish and angry. "You should probably leave her to Molesley and ask Lady Edith instead."

Andy didn't reply.

"Don't worry. After a few dances, they go upstairs, and then you can dance with Daisy."

"Daisy?"

"I see the two of you talking all the time. I thought—"

"We're just friends."

Now it was Thomas' turn to be puzzled. "Well, you don't have to marry her to dance with her."

Andy was lost in thought. "The thing is, Mr. Barrow, I won't be dancing with anyone. I-I don't know how."

Thomas was surprised. "You never learned?"

Andy hung his head in shame. "I guess I'd better let Mr. Carson know."

The underbutler's eyebrows shot him a warning. "He won't like that."

"What else can I do?"

"You've got time to learn a few dances. Why don't you ask one of the maids to show you?"

"I couldn't do that, Mr. Barrow. I'd feel too stupid." Andy gave him a pleading look. "Could you teach me? Are you any good?"

Thomas pretended to be affronted. "I'll have you know I'm very good."

"Then will you?"

The older man shook his head. "Andy—"

"Please, Mr. Barrow. All my life, people have laughed at me because I'm not clever and get things wrong most of the time, but you never laugh at me."

Thomas looked sympathetically at the new footman. He knew what it was like to be the butt of others' jokes. "If anyone laughs at you, refer them to me, and I'll set them straight."

Andy fixed him with a grateful smile. "Will you show me then?"

Thomas knew he couldn't be alone with Andy without causing a furor among the other servants. They were happy for him to help the footman with his duties, but that was all. The incident with Jimmy Kent was still fresh in their minds, even after all these years, and Andy was very young indeed. "I'm sorry, Andy, but I don't think that would be a good idea. You should ask Daisy instead."

The footman looked disappointed but nodded resignedly. "I understand, Mr. Barrow. Goodnight." He returned to his room and eventually fell into a troubled sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

As the day of the ball drew nearer, Andy appeared increasingly worried. Thomas pulled him aside. "How are the dance lessons with Daisy going?"

Andy shook his head dejectedly. "They're not. I haven't asked her."

"What? So you still haven't learned how to dance?"

"I thought I'd pretend to be ill that day."

"What if they send for Dr. Clarkson? He'd see there was nothing wrong." They both knew the wrath that came down on a malingering servant.

Andy looked beaten. "What am I going to do?"

Thomas relented. "Come to my room after dinner. Don't let anyone see you. This has to be our secret."

The young footman's face lit up. "Do you mean it? Thank you, Mr. Barrow."

That evening there was a knock on the underbutler's door, and Andy stepped inside. The furniture had all been pushed up against the walls to create a small opening in the middle of the floor. "Did anyone see you?" Thomas asked.

"No, I was careful, but what would it matter if they did?"

Thomas didn't answer. "Right. Let's get started then. The first dance is always a waltz. It goes 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3." He moved gracefully in a square with his left arm raised in the air and his right out in front of him while Andy looked on skeptically. "Put your left hand on my shoulder and your right hand up like mine," the underbutler instructed him.

"Like this, Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas took the lanky footman's large hand awkwardly in his smaller, gloved one and placed his other hand on Andy's back. It had been a long time since he had touched another man or another man had touched him. "This is called the box step." He made a move forward, but Andy stood still, causing Thomas to bump into him. "When I step forward, you have to step back," the older man explained. "Let's try again. 1-2-3, 1-2-3," Thomas chanted as he led the footman through the steps. He felt like he was dragging around a dead body.

"How was that?"

"Not too bad," Thomas lied, "but you can't look down at your feet when you're dancing. You have to look at the girl."

Andy's eyes fixed on Thomas, his face a study in concentration as he tried again. "1-2-3, 1-2-3," he repeated under his breath until the underbutler stopped abruptly. "What's wrong, Mr. Barrow?"

"I just realized we're doing this backward. The man always leads." He repositioned their hands. "You have to move in the opposite direction now."

Andy grinned. "Does that make you the girl?"

"Never mind that," Thomas growled, but he was fighting to hold back a smile.

Andy took a long step forward, coming down hard on the underbutler's toes. Thomas leaped back with a small cry. Andy was immediately apologetic. "I'm sorry. It's these big feet of mine."

Thomas looked down. There was no denying it; Andy did have enormous feet. Barrow spoke patiently, "No harm done, but you don't want that to happen with Lady Edith." Andy looked horrified at the thought. "Try again," Thomas urged.

They waltzed about the tiny attic space until Andy once again stepped on Thomas' toes. "I'm really sorry. I'm hopeless," the footman lamented.

"Maybe we should take a break," Thomas suggested. He limped over to the bed while Andy took a seat in one of the chairs against the wall.

"Where did you learn to dance like that, Mr. Barrow?"

"My mother taught me. She loved to dance, but my father wasn't really the dancing type," Thomas answered dryly. It was the first time Andy had ever heard him speak about his family. "Did your mother really never show you?" the underbutler asked him.

Andy tried to imagine his harried mother waltzing about their cramped, little house in the east end of London, surrounded by his large brood of brothers and sisters. He shook his head. "Should we get started again?"

Thomas had removed his shoe and was rubbing his aching foot. "I think that's enough for tonight. Try practicing on your own, and we'll begin again tomorrow."

Andy nodded and made his way to the door. Before he left, he fixed the underbutler with a shy smile. "Thank you for helping me, Mr. Barrow."

At teatime the next day, Andy was seated with Mr. Molesley and Mr. Bates in the servants' hall. The two older men exchanged a conspiratorial look, and Molesley cleared his throat. He turned to Andy. "We've noticed that Mr. Barrow seems to have taken an interest in you. You need to be on your guard around him."

"Why is that, Mr. Molesley?"

The balding footman looked helplessly to Mr. Bates who took over. "Mr. Barrow has a certain _penchant_ , shall we say, for young men."

Andy looked confused. "I don't understand. He helps me."

Molesley broke in. "We just want you to be careful, that's all."

"And you might want to bar your bedroom door at night," the valet added with a snicker. Andy rose from the table and left without a word.

That evening, he appeared once again for his dance lesson. "I've been practicing in my room, and I think I've got the hang of it now."

Thomas smiled. "Let's see what you've got then."

Andy took Thomas' hand and pulled him toward him, hearing the underbutler let out a little gasp. "Is something wrong, Mr. Barrow?"

"No, it's just that you're holding me too close." Thomas took a step back. "There. That's better."

The footman counted out, "1-2-3, 1-2-3," as he led the older man about the small bedroom.

Thomas studied Andy's face. No one would ever call him handsome. His eyes were set too far apart, and his ears stuck out. His nose was too big, and his jaw too small. Yet there was something pleasing in his countenance that Thomas found endearing. In truth, he thought the lad rather cute. "That was much better. I think you'll do fine."

"I know I'll make a mess of it at the ball with the ladies. If only I could dance with you."

Thomas looked up in surprise, but the footman didn't seem to be aware of saying anything untoward.

"Will you show me another dance?" the younger man asked.

"How about the foxtrot? It goes like this. Slow, slow, quick-quick. Slow, slow, quick-quick."

It was difficult to maneuver in the confines of the little attic room, but Andy seemed to be catching on faster. "I think I've got it now."

"You're becoming a regular Fred Astaire," Thomas joked.

"Who's that, Mr. Barrow?"

Thomas smiled indulgently. "Never mind."

"I think I'd like to learn the tango next."

"Better save that for another time."

"Alright." The footman made no attempt to leave, however, and sat down on one of the chairs instead.

"Was there something else, Andy?"

"I thought maybe we could talk for a bit. We don't get much chance with the others about."

Thomas was feeling very uncomfortable. He knew Andy shouldn't be there in the first place. "Actually, I'm feeling a little tired tonight and thought I'd turn in early."

"Oh." Andy sounded disappointed.

"Make sure there's no one in the corridor when you leave."

Andy rose reluctantly. "Goodnight, Mr. Barrow."

"Goodnight, Andy."


	3. Chapter 3

The next night after dinner, the older servants retired to Mrs. Hughes' sitting room while the others remained grouped around the long dining table. Mr. Bates was waiting for Anna to finish getting Lady Mary to bed before returning to their cottage for the night. Thomas sat in his usual spot by the fire, buried behind a newspaper. "Are you looking for another job, Mr. Barrow?" Molesley asked him jokingly.

Thomas lowered the paper. "I have a job here. Why would I need to look for another?" His voice was brittle and defensive.

"Have you ever considered that maybe you'd be happier somewhere else?" Bates chimed in. "After all, there's nothing to keep you here."

"I didn't realize you were so concerned with my happiness, Mr. Bates."

The valet continued. "Actually, I'm thinking of everyone's happiness."

"I see. So you'd all be glad if I left?"

"I don't think anyone here would be sorry to see the back of you."

Thomas threw down the newspaper and stormed out of the servants' hall. A few moments later, the others heard the sound of the back door slamming shut. Andy had been listening in silence to the entire exchange. Now he rose from his chair, giving the two men a look of disgust.

"Andy? What are you doing?" Molesley inquired.

"I'm going after him, of course."

Bates seemed puzzled. "Don't worry about Mr. Barrow. He'll be alright."

"I think you hurt his feelings." Andy added angrily, "Or don't you believe he has any feelings?" He stomped off, leaving the two men staring after him in open-mouthed surprise. Once outside, he spotted the glow of the underbutler's cigarette and made his way over to where he stood. "Are you alright?"

Thomas could barely make out the footman's face in the dark. "I'm fine, Andy."

"They had no right to talk to you like that."

"I'm used to it," the older man replied bitterly.

"Well, you shouldn't have to be."

Thomas was touched. "Listen, Andy, I appreciate your concern, but it would be better for both of us if you didn't spend so much time with me. The others won't like it."

"But we're friends, aren't we?"

"They don't want me to have any friends, especially ones like you."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I don't mean anything. You'd better get back inside now. I'll be in shortly."

Andy turned wordlessly and walked away.

The following night, there was a knock on Thomas' door, and the footman stepped inside. Thomas looked up in surprise. "Andy? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for my dance lesson. I still want to learn the tango, remember?"

Thomas was flabbergasted. "I meant what I said last night. You need to stay away from me."

Andy became angry at that. "Don't I have any say in it?"

"I'm only thinking of you. I don't want to see you ridiculed and set apart because of me."

"You don't need to protect me, Thomas. I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"That's Mr. Barrow to you," the underbutler reminded him, but there was no bite in his words.

"I thought maybe I could call you by your first name when we're alone."

"Well, you can't." Thomas was fighting hard to maintain a professional distance from the footman, not only because of their respective positions in the house but also because of Andy's tender age. He was determined not to make the same mistake he had with Jimmy.

Andy simply shrugged. "So what about that tango lesson?"

* * *

The night of the ball finally arrived. The underbutler passed Andy's open bedroom door to see the younger man practicing his dance moves. "Are you ready to go down?" Thomas asked him.

Andy looked up with a start. "I wish this bloody night were over," he grumbled.

"You might have fun."

"Not likely. With any luck, I'll sprain my ankle during the first dance."

"It'll be fine." Thomas offered him an encouraging smile. "Let's go." They soon found themselves in the great hall where the other staff members were already congregated. The women were adorned in their finest frocks, and the men in their best suits. There was a long table placed against one wall with a large bowl of gin punch in the center surrounded by a variety of tasty canapés. The hallboys had set up small tables and chairs at the other end of the room, leaving a space in the middle for dancing.

The family was all present including the Dowager Lady Grantham, Lady Rosamund Painswick, and Isobel Crawley. The music began, and Mr. Carson and Lady Grantham took the floor, followed quickly by His Lordship with Mrs. Hughes. Thomas made his way to the table where the Dowager Countess was seated. "May I have the honor of this dance, Your Ladyship?"

The old woman smiled and took his arm. "How are you, Barrow?"

"I'm very well. Thank you, m'lady." As they danced, Thomas peered over her shoulder and saw Andy eyeing them. He jerked his head in the direction of Lady Edith and watched as the footman timidly approached her table. The two soon joined the others on the dance floor while the underbutler looked on nervously. He became aware that his partner was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, Your Ladyship. I'm afraid I didn't catch that."

The Dowager pursed her lips in annoyance and turned to see what he found more interesting than she. She saw only her granddaughter dancing with the new footman, Andrew. "You seem very concerned with that young man."

Thomas explained. "This is his first ball, and he's been terribly anxious about it."

"Has he now?" She fixed him with a knowing look, her sharp, blue eyes meeting his cool, gray ones. "Be careful there, Barrow."

Thomas felt the blood rush to his cheeks. "I just want tonight to go well for him, m'lady, that's all." At last, the dance ended, and Thomas escorted the elderly woman back to her table. He partnered Mrs. Crawley for the next number.

Andy was now dancing with Lady Grantham. His face was grim but determined, and Thomas could see his lips silently counting. The underbutler partnered Lady Rosamund, Lady Grantham, and both the Crawley sisters before the family slipped away. He was then free to join Andy at the refreshment table. "You looked pretty good out there."

Andy grinned. "I managed to get through it without embarrassing myself too much, thanks to you." He threw back a cup of punch before reaching for a refill. "This dancing stuff is thirsty work."

"Better go easy with that," Thomas warned him.

"Aw, I can handle it."

Daisy spotted the two men and approached them shyly. She was wearing a new blue dress, her brown hair falling on her shoulders in soft waves.

"You look very nice tonight," Andy told her before stuffing an hors d'oeuvre in his mouth.

She blushed prettily. "Would you dance with me, Andy? It's the Charleston."

Andy turned uneasily to Thomas. "I don't know that one."

"I'll show you." Daisy hurriedly pulled the footman onto the dance floor. He was all elbows and knees but seemed to be enjoying himself. The older servants had already gone upstairs. Thomas availed himself to the refreshments before heading up too. After stripping down to his vest, he fell into his armchair and picked up the novel he was reading.

Some time later, his door was thrown open wide, and Andy entered, dropping down on the bed. "I danced with Daisy and then with all the maids and then with Daisy again."

"So you enjoyed yourself after all." Thomas observed with amusement that the footman was rather squiffy.

"Why did you come up so early? The party was just getting started."

"I thought I'd leave it to you young people."

Andy pulled the underbutler to his feet. "Come on, old man."

"What are you doing, Andy?" Thomas asked, laughing.

"Let's waltz." The footman took his hand and proceeded to lead him about the room. "I saved the last dance for you."


End file.
